Rourke (New Vampire Disorder Book 2)

by Marie Johnston

  Demetrius had inquired about her past, and she was resolute none of her three exes had anything to do with the tragedy. All breakups were amicable. Nathaniel’s friend was even engaged to another girl already and Grace wished them well.

  But one kiss from an unemotional stone usurped her whole dating existence. Her intuition urged her to keep trying, to not give up on the male who shoved her away and stalked out calm and collected. Her intuition should’ve told her to run from him, but his reaction was yet another discrepancy comparing him to her nightmare vision.

  Demetrius and Calli’s movements in the lower level prompted Grace to stay on the top floor and start her search in her parents’ office. From there, she could search their bedroom and then her brother’s bedroom.

  Collecting her bags and dropping them at the top of the stairs, she wandered to the office. She lingered in the hall as she passed the photographs that lined the walls. Happy faces, happy times. She moved on before another bout of crying delayed her mission.

  She paused after she entered the office. The eerie sense she intended to dig for dirt on her beloved parents upset her stomach. She shook it off. If it brought their killers to justice, she’d turn this house inside out.

  She rifled through their desk, but found standard items: bills, receipts, ledgers. The filing cabinet held the usual offenders: tax returns, house repairs, owner’s manuals. None of it did Grace any good other than reinforce the idea maybe her parents just innocuously knew vampires existed. And had enough knowledge to raise one, because who doesn’t?

  Redoubling her efforts, she pulled out drawers. Her fingers swiped around surfaces, her eyesight good enough to not require a flashlight. The filing cabinet held no hidden surprises. She focused on the desk, thinking about her next stop. Where was the best place to stash incriminating documents?

  The left side of the desk was typical as could be. The right side held a locked drawer Grace overpowered easily enough. With her strength, a forceful tug popped it open with a chuck of splintered wood hanging off the lock.

  Bank documents. Normal ones at that.

  Grace set the stash on the desk, huffing stray curls off her face. They were in their usual state of disarray if she didn’t wear a headband or confine it to a clip. It was her favorite look really, but she tamed it when she recorded her lessons or Skyped with a student so she wasn’t continually blowing them out of her eyes.

  Glancing around at the scattered papers and drawers of various sizes, she liked the idea she didn’t have to clean up after herself. She toed the locked drawer out of the way. It was then she registered something wasn’t right. She squatted down, peered into where the drawer used to sit, felt around. Nothing unusual. She turned her attention back to the drawer.

  Whaddya know? The interior of the drawer was not as deep as the opening it went into.

  A zing of excitement raced through her. If someone was going to find something, she wanted it to be her.

  She pushed and pried to figure out the opening mechanism. Where there was some give, she increased pressure and with a satisfying pop, the bottom compartment dumped papers onto the floor.

  Eyes wide, she sat and spread the documents out on the floor. Three passports and a small notebook lay among the cache. Opening them all side by side, she recognized her parents, but not their names. The baby photo resembled pics she’d seen of Nathaniel as a baby, but again, different name.

  The dates on the passports were mere weeks before they’d adopted her, and they were long past expired.

  Holy shit, she’d been living with strangers. All three of them. What the hell would drive a couple with a baby to change their names? They were an everyday family, lived in the ’burbs, mowed their lawn on the weekend.

  People changed identities when they were in trouble, or when they were the trouble.

  She gathered up the papers and arranged them in a neat pile to scan one by one, saving the notebook for last. There were no more than ten papers, and they were mostly applications for fake documents. She set those aside for Demetrius.

  Voices drifted in through the door just as she opened the notebook. She sensed the male who’d been troubling her all night before he strode in, appearing as unflappable as always and wearing the same clothing he left in.

  “Seriously, Rourke. You should go home and change first.” Demetrius kept pace behind him, but Rourke ignored him.

  He pulled up short when his gaze landed on Grace. Her mind shorted and irrational anger swelled.

  “Uck. You smell like sex. Get the fuck out with that whore stench on you.” Rationally, Grace had nothing to be upset about. A kiss did not define a relationship, and his danger to her wellbeing hadn’t been established.

  Rourke being hot and heavy with anyone pissed her the fuck off. Then to have the brazen audacity to march into the same room with her? What. An. Ass.

  “I didn’t have sex.” Rourke’s cool mask slipped to reveal his disconcerted expression.

  Ha! It didn’t bother him that she was pissed, but if she was tumbling in emotional turmoil, then she’d make sure he was, too.

  “Then someone had sex on you. You stink. Get out.” Grace snatched up her find, stood, and marched past Rourke, glaring into his dark, glittering eyes the entire way.

  He tracked her as she handed the papers to Demetrius, kept the notebook for herself and left the office.

  “Take the hint next time, Rourke,” Demetrius muttered before she slammed the door to her parent’s bedroom.

  It wasn’t enough to block the voices, unless Rourke intentionally spoke loud enough to carry across the wooden barrier.

  “It shouldn’t concern her whose sex I smell like.”

  “It obviously does. And after the call I got from you early this evening, you have shit with her to settle before you parade around your club habits.”

  “I told you what I was doing,” Rourke growled.

  “Yeah, just me.” Demetrius’ voice dropped until Grace strained to listen with her ear pressed to the door. “You’re in charge of an investigation she’s an integral part of. You can’t have issues with her. I’m taking you off the case. Betty’s set up another room for her.”

  “This is my case, Demetrius. You can’t save the fucking world by yourself. It’s a simple investigation. And Grace is staying with me.”

  “Why?”

  Grace held her breath with Demetrius’ question. Yes, why?

  “Because.”

  She almost sputtered. He was infuriating! It pissed the hell out of her that she didn’t want to move to another room either.

  “Rourke,” Demetrius’ tone grew concerned, “I’ve never seen you this ruffled by a female.” Grace’s ego swelled, then her ire flattened it, remembering his stench. “Until we figure her out, Bishop should take point.”

  A low rumble rattled from Rourke. “Fine. She stays in another room, but I’m lead on this investigation.”

  Rather than have her work with another male? But he could go stir up a cloud of orgasm with another female?

  “You will keep me updated every step of the way,” Demetrius warned.

  “When I do never update you?” Rourke retorted.

  Papers rustled. They must be going through her discovery.

  She tiptoed to her parent’s king-sized bed so the males wouldn’t know she’d eavesdropped. Once settled, she opened the notebook. Her instinct was to read through this alone.

  Her mouth dropped open with a small gasp. Written in her mom’s scrawl was a letter.

  Dearest Children,

  At the risk of sounding cliché, if you’re reading this, we are most likely dead. If we aren’t, then you’re in serious trouble for snooping!

  Whether we died of natural causes or nefarious ones, you both deserve to know the truth. I hoped one day we would’ve told you everything, but your father and I didn’t want to upset the idyllic life we’d built.

  You see, before you lovely children came along, our business was committing despicable acts. We
worked for an organization that hunted supernatural creatures. We foolishly thought we were doing right by the world.

  Our eyes were opened after several signs those we hunted were more decent than those we worked for.

  If you found this stash, then you found the passports. Once we had our own child, we couldn’t risk his safety and planned an escape using connections. Only we couldn’t follow through; we were afraid. We went on one more mission.

  That’s where you come in, Grace. Your family was our target. I honestly can’t tell you if we would’ve gone through with it, but when we arrived, they were already dead, except a precious little toddler survived.

  You finalized our plans to get out, but we couldn’t fly with you. You were a squirmy little bundle, and we doubted we could protect you from the light on a long trip. We fled to Freemont with you both, hoping it was a city large enough to get lost in, with enough vampires for Grace to blend.

  Grace hiccupped around the tears rolling down her face. It killed her more the letter was addressed to both her and her brother, but he was gone, too. If her mom and dad had known it would end this way…

  I wrote this so you’d know who we were. We were good people doing bad things for what we thought were the right reasons. That should make us bad people, but life’s not clear cut, unfortunately.

  Whether you read the next pages, I’ll leave that up to you both. For my own sanity, I had to unload all of the atrocities we’d committed. A few of them may have benefitted the human population, but I’ll never know for sure. And if I did know, I don’t know that it’d make me feel better.

  You both are worth the risk of leaving everything to raise you in the human world. Your father and I loved you with everything and were over the moon we got to experience a normal life with our children.

  Love Mom and Dad.

  Grace dropped the notebook, sobbing. It felt like all she was good for lately.

  Dimly, she became aware of Rourke standing before her.

  “God, you stink,” she declared between sniffles.

  “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “Whatever. It’s not my concern.”

  He frowned. Score one for Grace Otto. She cracked his expression again.

  “The lock pick you found was mine, angel.”

  Her heart dropped to her toes. The clue at the crime scene incriminated him.

  “I often…” His gaze dropped while he decided what to say. “I…dislike…being restrained. Therefore, I often practice my abilities to escape various restraints—without myself being in them. One of my previous partners stole the pick from me, and I narrowed it down to one female. My goal in seeing her tonight was to discover who she stole it for and why.”

  Grace squinted at his handsome features, trying to determine if she was interpreting him correctly. “Bondage?”

  “For my partner.”

  “Our kiss must’ve been pretty vanilla compared to what you did tonight.”

  His eyes still hung on the floor, indecision in his features. “I don’t kiss, Grace. Unless I’m ripping someone’s throat out, I don’t even touch.”

  She snorted. When he glanced at her in confusion, she rolled her eyes toward him. “You don’t get drenched in sex without touching.”

  “The scent clings regardless. Some females react powerfully from their own fetishes.”

  “So you tied her up and gave her multiple orgasms? Tell me, Rourke, how does that interrogation technique work?”

  His eyes lit with a menacing glow that stuttered her heart—because she liked it. “There were no orgasms tonight, nor will there be any more for her.”

  Holy shit. He said it in a tone that would’ve made Batman ask for advice. Suddenly, Grace pitied the female.

  She made an attempt to soften the conversation. “What’d you find out?”

  His expression darkened. “Whoever talked her into the task held more sway over her than I did.”

  “Why would you be framed?”

  A scowl tightened his features. “I have no clue.” He hesitated, and she knew she wouldn’t like what he said next. “She helped kill your parents.”

  Oh. Her pity went up in flames. “Thank you for telling me.”

  His gaze dropped from hers, his only sign of relief. Had he been worried how she’d handle the news? Figuratively, she wanted to rip the female’s heart out. Literally, she didn’t know if she could do it. But one aspect of justice had been served and that eased a small fraction of her grief.

  He stooped to pick up the notebook. She snatched it away. He gave her a sharp look and held his hand out.

  “I don’t know what’s in here.” What if her parents saw the same male she did that night? Would that be written in here?

  The truth was, she couldn’t read it. She dropped her gaze to the notebook. Her soul was shredded from the letter. Reading the entire notebook was a daunting task. She handed it over. Rourke accepted it and immediately paged through it.

  Grace clasped her hands, fiddling her thumbs in a one-person thumb war. She turned her thoughts elsewhere to ignore the book Rourke held.

  She might have a clue, and it might wreck her secret hunt for her vampire family’s killers. But if it wasn’t Rourke, he could help her.

  “I have one memory before I was adopted. I don’t even know if it’s a memory.” She sucked in a breath and rushed out, “You were walking among the remains of my parents.”

  Rourke stopped reading, surprise etched in his features.

  “You can imagine why I kept flashing away from you when I saw you again among my parents’ remains.”

  Several emotions traveled across his face until it matched the what-the-hell-do-we-make-of-that thoughts she’d been having the last day.

  “It wasn’t me,” he said, simply.

  “Rourke,” Demetrius barked from the doorway, “we have reports of another human family targeted by vampires.” He entered, warily glancing between the two.

  She didn’t know him well, but in the hours she had, he came across as the guy who trumped any conversation he declared necessary. It wasn’t Grace’s imagination something simmered between her and Rourke, not after she heard their discussion and the way Demetrius approached to avoid interrupting.

  “Tell him,” Rourke ordered.

  She should rise. She had to crane her neck up to see them both, but she didn’t get up. Already exposed and raw, relating the dream that had haunted her for her whole life sapped her energy.

  Demetrius’s brows rose as she spilled the details. A second telling was as cathartic as the first. More so, because he was a third party and that validated the terror she’d grown up with. Between her and Rourke, it was a haunting event, but the more she vocalized her recurring nightmare, the more substance it had.

  Rourke passed the notebook to Demetrius who took his turn paging through it. Grace cringed. They read her parents’ deepest, darkest secrets, and she’d only just met the males. Her hand twitched to snatch it away. If she hadn’t sensed their vested interest in solving the murders, she might have.

  Demetrius whistled. “Damn. Does she relate the details of the night Grace was orphaned?”

  “Let me see.” Rourke flicked to the end of the journal and took a moment to read. His brows shot up. “They left a nice detail.”

  Grace’s interest perked.

  “Shiiit.” Demetrius called over his shoulder. “Callista.”

  The blonde raced in as Grace demanded, “What?”

  Rourke answered her as Demetrius and Calli murmured over the notebook. “They mentioned being worried the vampires were going to burn the place if they didn’t find you. Because it smelled like matches.”

  Grace shot up. “Sulfur! Demons were behind both sets of murders? How could they not be related?”

  “Very possible,” Calli agreed. “But we don’t want to pigeonhole ourselves with assumptions. Demons are devious.”

  Rourke nodded. “Wanna bet this third murder scene has a sulfur taint?”

 
“Or another piece of evidence incriminating you,” Grace added.

  He paused as if he hadn’t thought of that.

  At Calli’s questioning look, Demetrius filled her in on Grace’s dream.

  “It’s an awful coincidence both Grace and Rourke are linked to each scene.” Calli rubbed her chin in thought. “But it’s doubtful Grace is connected to this third set of murders, if it’s even related to the others at all. However, if we find something pointing to Rourke, that’d strongly suggest he’s the key to whoever’s doing this.”

  “And it was conveniently performed while my only alibi would’ve been a deceitful vampire who already betrayed me once. It’s not likely I’ll remember what I was doing twenty-three years ago when I wandered in front of baby Grace giving her nightmares for life.” His tone had dropped to a harsh bitter rasp, as if the thought of cursing Grace to live in terror of him every day of her life ate at his very soul.

  Demetrius shrugged. “Well, you’re a bastard, but you’re not a pointless murderer.”

  Rourke nodded like he agreed with both the bastard label and murderer observation. “There’s a few hours before daylight. Are you up for checking out the scene, Grace?”

  Chapter Six

  She’d feared him her whole life?

  Rourke had never been to the crime scene and couldn’t flash them. They recovered Grace’s vehicle from the trailhead, and Rourke drove Grace there. Two birds, one stone. Grace’s car found in the middle of nowhere raised too many questions, and he got decompression time before they dealt with another tragedy.